Broken Arrow (Darkened Destiny Saga Book 1)

by Azaria M. J. Durant

  “There's nothing here,” I mutter.

  “I told you,” Hamish replies, turning to Bellator. “It is no longer here.”

  “Yes it is,” she says, stepping past us. “We just have to wait for it.”

  Only a sliver of the sun peeks from the horizon now, leaving a yellow line to light up the world. In a moment, that too is gone, and the cool darkness of night sets in. With the loss of the sun's light, the moon appears in the sky, white and full. Under the light of the moon, the landscape before us slowly changes. The sound of the river is abruptly cut off, almost as if it has stopped flowing. Any wisp of grass growing on the rocky hillside disappears, and the dark skeleton of a castle materializes in the moonlight. Massive cut stones are scattered around it, and heaps of what used to be a wall skirts the only thing that remains standing: an iron gateway. The metal grate has long since been smashed through in the centre, but the edges stretch out their claws to bar the way.

  Hamish takes a step back. “There it is.”

  “The ruined castle of Arnon,” Bellator announces.

  “It's beautiful,” Lady Marianna says, breathless.

  “Of course,” I say to myself. “The spell makes it so that it can only be seen during the night.”

  “Indeed,” Bellator beams. “This quest has been planned exceptionally well, if I do say so myself. The light of the full moon opens the portal into the realm where the spell has trapped these ruins – a realm between the land of the dead and that of the living. Today is the first of four days that we have entry to this place. If we’d missed this window, we would’ve had to wait another month.”

  “Which we can't really afford to do,” I conclude.

  “Exactly. Now come. We don't have any time to lose.”

  “Wait!” Hamish says, stepping forward. “You said that if I brought you here, you would let us go.”

  “And I mean to," she replies. “But I never said when I would do so. I’m not going to risk having your father's soldiers trap us inside. You’re coming in with us.”

  Turning, she steps toward the castle. As she does, a chilling screech rips through the air from within. She freezes, reaching for an arrow. The screeching begins again, but is cut off by a loud hiss that echoes into the night.

  “What was that?” Lady Marianna whispers.

  No one answers and no one dares move.

  “Bellator,” I gulp. “This place is a death trap. I was the only one that committed to go in there with you. Let the others go.”

  She tears her gaze away from the ruins and shakes her head. “Don't cross me on this, Ealdred. I’ve gone too far to risk this mission being ruined. This is our chance and I’m going to take it. If they die, so be it. But we’re all going in there.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  T he gateway of the castle was not left unguarded. Although the two creatures that stand guardian over either side of the crumbling archway are made of stone, their appearance alone is enough to repel visitors from joining their ghostly company. Half-gargoyle, half-serpent, their grotesque heads rear back as if to strike, while their feathered tails coil in heaps around the base of the broken archway.

  “A deterrent to keep out the faint of heart.” Bellator glances back at Hamish, her eyebrows raised. “Which you, apparently, are not.”

  Hamish stares into the darkness beyond the gate, looking ill.

  Bellator follows his gaze. “Now’s not the time to faint,” she says. “Come, we’ll take the first steps together.”

  Reluctant, yet obedient, the prince walks with her through the gate. I find myself left with Marianna. Her jaw sets with determination, and before I say anything, she charges in after them. I can only follow.

  It seems as if we step from one world to another as we pass under the arch of the gateway. A world with very little darkness is traded for one that is made of it. The air is stale and eerie, and the heavy stench of death lingers in every breath we take.

  Bellator pulls out the firestone in her gloved hand and lets it dangle from its chain. She mutters something, and it ignites, casting its light to our surroundings. Shadows press around us in a ring. The area of ground illuminated is littered with rubble from the walls and fallen towers, cracked pillars of different heights both toppled and left standing, and something even more terrible.

  “Bellator, are those—” I falter.

  “Skeletons,” she confirms.

  The ground is scattered with decrepit human skeletons that would be unrecognizable if not for the suits of rusted armour that holds their forms. Weapons pierce the bodies, some stuck fast in pieces of armour, some lying beside their victims, and very few remaining in the hands of their masters. Spider-webs have been woven over the bodies, serving as nature’s shroud for the dead.

  “This is no place for the living,” Hamish says, his voice echoing in the darkness beyond what we can see. “Terrible things have happened here.”

  “Indeed,” Bellator says. “Here took place the ancient battle of Arnon.”

  “What happened?” Lady Marianna whispers.

  Bellator hesitates. “People died.”

  The prince clears his throat. “Legend speaks of this place as belonging to the first settler to come to our land, perhaps the very same person the mythical phoenix was modeled after—”

  “Legend is wrong,” Bellator cuts in, abruptly ending the prince's account.

  Her bitter mood returning, Bellator hurries through the courtyard, either leaping over the remains of dead bodies or kicking them aside as she passes. Her gaze flits to and fro as she searches the rubble for something only she knows. The air is filled with tension as we follow her, each of us anticipating our own swiftly approaching demise.

  We reach the large, circular foundation of what used to be a tower. Most of the wall has joined the rubble around the base, but a good ten feet from the ground has been spared. Strangely, it doesn't appear to be damaged.

  Bellator steps up to the door that bars the entrance to the tower. “This is it.”

  “What is it?” I ask, following.

  She turns to me, an eager light in her eyes. “This is what we've been looking for.” Stepping aside, she gestures to the door. “Open it.”

  I look at the old, seemingly wooden door. Scorch marks cover it, especially surrounding the handle, yet it remains as sturdy as ever. “Are you sure?”

  “Well, I doubt that anyone else could open it, or it would probably be open by now.”

  I step forward and reach out my hand toward the door. I pause, my fingers only a few inches away from it. Then I grasp the cold metal of the handle and try to pull it open.

  “It's locked,” I mutter.

  No sooner are the words out of my mouth than a sharp hiss cuts through the air. I jump back, whirling to face Bellator. She locks her gaze with mine, a look very much resembling fear passing through her eyes.

  “What was that?” I whisper.

  She opens her mouth with a slight tremor. “It's... it's calling you!”

  My eyes widen, and I allow myself to panic. “What is?”

  “I- I don't know...” her voice trails off, but then comes back with fierceness. “Draw your weapons!”

  I draw my knife with my left hand and my sword with my other. Bellator spins around and cuts Hamish free of his bonds.

  “You're freeing me?” Hamish asks.

  “Yes! Now draw your sword if you want to use that freedom!” she says, nocking her bow with an arrow.

  The prince quickly gets over his shock and draws his own sword. His eyes are wide with fear, but he stands with us to help fight the beast.

  The creature hisses again. Pain shoots from my left hand, searing up my arm. I cry out, dropping my knife, and look down at my palm. The brand on my hand glows red and heat scorches like it had when I was first burnt.

  “Ealdred, look out!” Bellator shouts.

  I look up. A massive black creature springs up in front of me, as high as a tower, rearing its fearsome head back and hi
ssing ferociously. Two shining yellow eyes the size of shields glare down at me with a wicked grin. A long, forked tongue darts in and out between two razor sharp fangs as it opens its jaws, preparing to strike.

  “By the goddess!” Hamish exclaims. “What is that thing?”

  “S-snake!” I cry, snatching up my sword in my right hand.

  The vibrating twang of a bow sings through the air, and Bellator's arrow strikes the beast's skin. But instead of sinking in, the arrow splinters on its iron scales.

  With another hiss, the serpent sweeps its long tail at my sword, catching the blade and ripping it from my hand.

  I jump back and search frantically for where my dagger had fallen. I see it and leap for it. As my hand closes around the hilt, the snake's tail coils around my legs and pulls me into the air.

  The world spins, and I let out a strangled cry as I find myself hanging upside down far above ground. I try to reach up and cut myself loose, but my arm isn’t long enough. My dagger cuts fruitlessly through thin air. Again, the snake hisses, and deliberately slams me into the side of a pillar. Light flashes. Everything goes dark as pain resonates through me, and all I can do is search for a way through it. When I come back to full consciousness, I am once again dangling in the air.

  “Hey!” Bellator shouts, and the beast swings around to assess her. “You want a fight? Here I am!”

  The serpent goes to swipe her away with its tail, carrying me along with it. Bellator summersaults out of the way, shouldering her bow. Down on her hands and knees, she looks up at the serpent, a smile turning her lips.

  “Finally,” she says. “A real challenge.”

  With a leap, she lunges for the beast, swinging onto it with the agility of a wildcat. She climbs up its body, reaching the top of its head with ease. The beast thrashes about, trying to throw her off, but she clings to its scalp with remarkable balance.

  The snake grinds its head into a mound of rubble, lowering me almost to the ground. I reach out for something to grab onto, but am hoisted up again almost at once. Feeling satisfied that it has removed the pest, it swings me closer to its open jaws, preparing to swallow me whole.

  I take my knife in both hands and hurl it at the creature with all my might. The knife pierces the oversized viper between its two fangs and sinks in up to the hilt. The beast rears backward, shaking its head, trying to escape the pain. While it does, Bellator rises up from a torn scale over its brow, and brings the firestone into the creature’s eye.

  A shriek emerges from the serpent and it gives a sudden, violent thrash. Bellator loses her balance and tumbles into the creature's open mouth. She catches herself on my knife, stopping her fall. For a moment, it holds, and she tries to swing herself back up. But then the knife slips, beginning to cut through the thin anchor of viper flesh.

  The snake rears back, its mouth open wide, preparing to strike at me. Bellator dangles upright inside the creature's mouth, directly above its bottom fangs. I look at her over the empty space, and for the first time since we met, I see terror in her eyes.

  “Ealdred,” she breathes.

  “Hold on!” I cry, reaching for her.

  “No! The poison—”

  The creature's tongue flits through its teeth and her hand slips a little.

  “Find the arrow!” she shouts, her voice unusually high. “Whatever it takes, find it!”

  Then the knife gives way. In that same moment, the snake throws me into the air and dives forward to swallow me whole. For a brief instant, we are both falling in the same direction. Her mouth is parted in a silent scream as she sails toward the black hole that is the creature's throat. Then the snake snaps its jaws shut between us and I slam into its nose. Its tongue shoots out and I tumble over its head, rolling down its body until I collide with the ground.

  The snake rises above me, hissing furiously. Then it jerks back, and whipping around, slithers into the darkness.

  “Bellator!” I cry as soon as I have breath.

  Silence is the only reply that I receive.

  Blinding pain shoots through my ribs as I push myself up, and stumble to my feet. I grunt, pressing my hand to my side.

  “Bellator!” I shout again, hoping that somehow, someway, she was able to escape.

  “Where is she?” Hamish groans from the darkness nearby.

  I blink back tears that I can't explain. “She saved me.” It is a strange, yet simple fact. A truth that I would never have expected of Bellator. “She saved me!”

  “Did it—” He grunts, and I can tell that he is in pain. “Is she— dead?”

  I turn in the direction of his voice and the tears escape. The truth isn't registering in my mind, even though I know the answer.

  All I can do is nod.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  M oonlight pierces the darkness around us, lighting the courtyard with a cool, clear glow. I look around, hoping to catch some glimpse of the snake, of Bellator. But all that I see before me is rubble and the ancient dead strewn as far as can be seen.

  Hamish is on his knees nearby, his left hand pressed to his right leg, which is dark with blood. Lady Marianna lies sprawled on the ground a few metres behind him, not moving.

  “Is she alright?” I ask, staggering toward them.

  The prince glances back, then cries out in alarm. “Marianna!”

  I rush past him and kneel down beside her, cutting her free of her ropes with a rusty knife I find on the ground nearby. Blood runs down her face from a gash in her forehead. Taking her hand, I press it between my own. It is limp, but still warm.

  “Is she alright?” the prince asks, trying to get to his feet. “Please, tell me that she is alive!”

  I press my finger to her wrist and feel a slow, languid heartbeat. “She's alive, but barely. You have to get her to a physician right away.”

  “I cannot,” he stammers hopelessly. “I cannot walk. She will die before I can get her back.”

  My heart is conflicted. Bellator's dying wish was for me to get that arrow, and frankly, now I owe it to her more than ever. But, I also can't let the future queen of Valamette die.

  “Please,” Hamish begs, “help me!”

  My gaze catches on the glinting blade of my sword. If only I had been strong enough to keep it in my hand! I am struck by the thought that no matter how much Bellator professed that she hated me and only needed me to get the arrow, in the end, she died saving me.

  It is time to follow her example. She turned aside to save a life. Now I will do the same.

  I pick up my sword and sheathe it in its scabbard. Then I turn to the prince. “Let's get out of this forsaken place.”

  Relief washes over his face and he struggles to his feet, leaning on a rusty spear that he pulled out of a nearby skeleton.

  “Thank you,” he says.

  I stoop down and lift the lady up in my arms. She is much heavier than I expected her to be – almost too much for me to carry – and with her whole body limp, I am careful to support her neck. Hamish reaches out his hand and gently presses the back of it to her cheek.

  “It is funny,” he says as if to himself. “We have been engaged our whole lives, but I only just met her yesterday. She is actually rather charming.”

  “Ready?” I ask.

  He nods quickly and draws his hand away, abashed.

  We start back toward the gate, which looms out of the darkness like a beacon of hope in a world of despair. But as we draw nearer, two red glowing eyes appear directly in our way. A shadow fills up the gateway.

  I stop short and turn to Hamish. “You have to take her,” I hiss.

  His terrified gaze breaks off of the obstacle ahead of us. “But I cannot—”

  “You have to try!” I return forcefully. “I'll keep it off as long as I can.”

  “I'm not going to leave you to fight it alone!”

  “You must! If you don't, the Lady Marianna will die. You have to save her. I will try my best to save you.”

  “But it will kill you!�
��

  I attempt a smile. “Have a little faith, will you?”

  He isn't amused. “I will not let you sacrifice yourself. Not for me.”

  “I will try my best to save you,” I say again. “Perhaps by doing so, I will forgive myself for allowing you to be brought into danger in the first place. Please, at least give me that.”

  He takes a breath, his lips white as he presses them together.

  I look down at the unconscious face of the lady. Her complexion has grown frightfully pale. “I would have you save her if you can.”

  He gives a wavering nod. “You have my thanks.”

  I place her gently in his outstretched arms and support him as he braces his leg against the weight. He takes a step, grappling under the strain on his leg. He sways, but regains his balance swiftly.

  I turn back to the gate, drawing out my sword with my right hand. Truth be told, it is not as strong as my left, but I cannot risk losing my weapon again.

  The creature rears back its head and howls a long, chilling howl that brittles my bones, and stalks into the moonlight. Although its shape resembles a wolf, it is the size of a bear. Claws like curved daggers extend from its giant paws, its teeth spearheads bared in a vicious snarl.

  Fear as strong as an ocean tide channels through me, but I fuse myself to the spot. I close my eyes and coax the cold energy into my veins so that I may have the courage to face this thing.

  The beast lets out a low growl, its gaze piercing me, and I find myself captivated by it. Something inside of me connects with the soul of the wolf, and my heart swells with pity.

  “It's beautiful,” I find myself muttering aloud. “How can I harm something so beautiful?”

  Footsteps shuffle nearby, and somewhere in my consciousness I understand that Hamish has taken the opportunity to slip past the creature.

  The beast crouches low to the ground, readying to pounce.

  “I won't,” I say, bewildered. Then, to the wolf, “I won't fight you, creature – it's wolf, isn't it? Wolf, I will not fight you!”